Man Of Ghosts
by JAE NI
Summary: Soon she realized that her father carried his ghosts on his face. (written for the October Maiko Week)


**October Maiko Week, Day 4 - Ghosts**

 **A/N: Another oneshot featuring little Izumi, because I love her a lot. It started as an idea. Then it stuck with me until I wrote it down. Then I thought 'why not make it longer?' and when I saw it, it was already this long. So, behold my longest oneshot so far, that I probably messed up at any point, but that I hope you all like it. And please, don't forget to be gentle souls and tell me my mistakes.**

* * *

Her father, Izumi came soon to understand, was a haunted man.

Her notion didn't start exactly like this. When she was really young, and still believing in fairy tales, she only thought that there were things he wanted to hide - or just didn't want to tell her. Things he would avoid giving answers.

Of course, many of those things were probably because he didn't have the proper time to see how it was a plausible and acceptable question, like when she asked 'why is the sky blue?' and also 'who putted the turtleducks in the pond?'. He would tell her to ask her mother, and her mother would only sigh and tell her the Firelord was just being silly and didn't want to admit he didn't know, no one knew. She would walk away in a huff and then think about the answers herself.

Sometimes he would simply say he'd answer in another occasion, like it wasn't something so important that she needed to know right now, but it was and she was really curious and he was the only one who could tell the story from the very beginning and still make silly voices to make her laugh. Like when she wanted to know 'how did you find Druk?' or 'how did you and the Avatar became friends?', and he just said no, another day, because it was already too late and he had already told her three stories, so she should sleep now, he would tell her next time. But he would never remember in the next time, and by the time she remembered him, he would have already told her three other stories and it would be sleep time once again.

There were questions, however, that hurt him, she could see. When she asked things like 'where's your dad' or 'when will your sister come back?' it looked like she had just punched him in the stomach. He would always look down, his eyes sad and set on the past, then he would give her a small and forced smile. He would caress her hair and promise to tell another day.

"Daddy, how did you get your scar?", that question was one of those.

"It's a long story, turtleduck." he said softly "I'll tell you another day, when you're older, okay?"

Then she would get quiet and just nod, and her father would walk down through the hallways with his shoulders low. Remembering things he had tried to forget. She knew that just like all the other painful questions, she'll never ask him this one again. Then she would get a little sad too, because she never meant to hurt him in the first place.

Later, during dinner, her mother would have to deal with both of them being pensive at the table, and Izumi knew she didn't have patience for that.

.

.

.

She couldn't bring herself to ask her father, so she appealed to her mother.

"Someone bad did it.", was all that she answered. Izumi buried her head deeper in her long and silky dark hair and her mother held her tighter. She always knew when her daughter was trying her best to not let upset tears come out.

"But why?", she always thought it had been an accident, discovering that a person did that on purpose was unsettling.

"Bad people do bad things." Mai answered with a soft voice, caressing her daughter's hair.

"Did it hurt?", Izumi's voice cracked after being silent for a while

"A lot.", her mother answered, still remembering the screams from that day.

"Does it still?"

Mai thought of her husband's face, marked with cruelty. The way his scar felt every time she touched his face. His old injury didn't burn anymore, and she was certain that, despite the occasional complaints of how it affected his looks, the scar didn't hurt him. Physically.

And because she knew what her daughter had meant, her answer was different from the other times she was made that question.

"Sometimes."

.

.

.

"Ghosts?", her voice was skeptical. Izumi didn't believe in ghosts.

"Yeah, that's a way of saying it.", the most powerful bender said awkwardly.

That was a stupid explanation and Izumi knew it, and she was not going to pretend that it made sense, even though the one who said it was, in fact, the Avatar himself.

Her mother taught her that.

"You know, for a wise man you can be really silly.", Aang felt the knives on the little girl's sharp glare.

"Well,", he tried to justify himself, "of course I don't mean your father is seeing dead people's souls, if that's what you're thinking."

She crossed her arms, but didn't move from her sitting position on the floor in front of her father's best friend. Her brow furrowed in confusion and she remained silent for a few moments, thinking about what he just had said.

"I still don't understand what you're trying to say.", she confessed frustrated.

Aang smiled at her troubled expression and tried to explain once again.

"You see, everyone likes to remember the good things that happened in the past, right?", Izumi nodded, that she could understand very well, she always liked to remember the last vacation she had with her parents at the Ember Island.

At her confirmation he continued.

"And there are bad things in the past that we remember, but we don't like to think about them.", she nodded again, understanding what he was saying, she still remembered the day she had accidentally set the couch of her bedroom on fire and had a hard time trying to put out the flames - that was the first time her mother shouted to her.

"But there are also other things." Aang kept explaining, "Really bad things that people would rather not to remember at all. They try to forget those things, but the harder they try, the most they remember them. When they think they forgot everything, it all comes back at once. And it hurts really bad, but they can never be free."

This time Izumi didn't nod. Not because she didn't understand what he'd told her, but because she couldn't remember anything like that ever happening to her. What kind of bad thing could do that to someone?

"So," she voiced her thoughts insecurely, "You're saying that something really bad happened to my father, and now he can't forget them. And that's why he gets so sad when I ask about them."

It was Aang's turn to nod.

"You're still young, so that must be a little harder for you to understand…"

"It never happened to me, but I think I understand.", she said softly, staring at her hands on her lap, "Those memories, they are like a ghost. We bury the dead, but the soul doesn't leave us so easily. They always come back, even when we wish they wouldn't."

Aang blinked, and then he smiled. That was Zuko's and Mai's child after all.

"Yes. That's exactly it."

.

.

.

"Ghosts?", his voice was half incredulous, half entertained "I didn't think you believed in ghosts, Izumi."

"I don't.", she explained quickly, "I meant the figured ghosts. You know, bad memories that don't go away."

"Oh, right, those ghosts.", he poured a cup of tea for both of them, "Do you think you have a few ghosts, Izumi?", he asked in an amused voice.

"No, that's not it.", she hesitated on how to explain herself better without revealing the origin of her curiosity.

But that was uncle Iroh, and when he laughed out loud, she knew he already knew.

"Most people who saw a war have one ghost or two.", he started softly, "That's why some people say that the war is not really over, because we still carry pieces of it."

"The ghosts.", Izumi wanted to be sure she was understanding everything correctly.

"Yes, the ghosts.", Iroh face became more solemn as he continued, "However, you don't need to go to the battlefield to have them, you just need one distressing event in your life. And usually, people that share the same experiences don't share the same ghosts. It all depends on what they value and how much they're willing to sacrifice to protect it."

She drank her tea silently, still not sure if she had got that right.

He laughed once again before continuing.

"You're still too young to understand this matter completely, my dear", he said in a gentle tone.

"Do you…", she asked carefully, "Do you have any ghosts?"

"A few ones.", he answered in his usual happy voice, "I don't complain about them, though I'm glad that some are already gone."

"Will I have ghosts too? When I grow up?", her voice small but curious.

"I certainly hope not! And I'm sure your parents will try their best and more to prevent you from having them."

She took another sip of her tea and kept silent for a while, taking in all she started to ask about ghosts. Iroh enjoyed his tea and her presence, even though she wasn't making as many questions as usual and her worried expression was starting to make him worry as well.

Finally, after a long reflection, she broke the silence.

"When do ghosts go away, uncle?"

He sighed, knowing what she wanted him to answer, but having to dissatisfy her.

"Sometimes they never go.", he spoke thoughtfully, "Other times, however, it only takes some effort of the person to become stronger than them. If you can be happier about the things that used to make you sad, then the ghosts will eventually go away, and then you'll be free."

Her shoulders relaxed and the worry on her face reduced considerably. He smiled, relieved. As long as she had her parents, he knew, she would be just fine.

"More tea?", he asked, his voice joyful once again.

"Yes, please.", Izumi smiled then. Uncle Iroh always knew how to make her feel better.

.

.

.

"A good night kiss? Aren't you a little too old for that, turtleduck?", he had already told her three bedtime stories and tucked her on bed when she made her request.

"I'm also too old to be called 'turtleduck'.", she wasn't, she knew she wasn't. She wasn't too old for a good night kiss either, but as a big girl she had to make a few sacrifices to prove she had grown up.

However, she was willing to let her father spoil her once again, even if she was going to deny it with all her heart in the next day.

Then after her father's lips had left her forehead and he started to back away she held him by his neck and kissed his face, the bad side one – with the scar, then smiled at him.

"I hope your ghosts go away soon, dad."

He looked shocked at first, but then he chuckled and his expression of surprise melted into an affectionate one.

"Me too, turtleduck.", he says gently, "Me too."

And when her father smiled softly at her, she knew that they wouldn't be around for much longer.


End file.
